


Beyond chance, beyond possibility

by sonictrowel



Series: Long Night in the Blue House [23]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Porn with Feelings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 22:02:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10522782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonictrowel/pseuds/sonictrowel
Summary: The Doctor was scowling at the sky instead of making eye contact with anyone, but his arm was wrapped tightly around River’s lower back, his hand at her waist keeping her pressed against his side.  Neither he nor Milly protested a group hug, this time.River tried to think of every bit of last minute advice and heartfelt wishes she could impart to her— her... what to call her?  Favourite student.  Protégée.  Closest friend since she’d still had her mother.  She felt she was understanding a huge, painful part of the Doctor’s life in a more visceral way than she had truly been able to before, watching this bright young woman they’d shared so much with walk away from the TARDIS.





	

**Author's Note:**

> if I post another one of these within 3 days someone slap me because I do actually have things I'm supposed to be doing. oops?

It was a lovely, mild morning.  A soft breeze swept over the plateau, the bittersweet song of the towers echoing faintly off of the cliffside.  But it was past the midpoint of the thaw now, and the weather would be turning colder again, the half-light they had enjoyed while passing Delta Nembus fading back to true night.  

They said their goodbyes to Milly out in front of the house.  Nardole had work at the Towers, so he was bringing her to the shuttle port in town.  River and the Doctor objected at first that they should take her, but as River stood there, inexplicably shivering in her pyjamas and warm fleece dressing gown even on such a mild day, she was glad she would be able to immediately retreat to the comfort of the TARDIS when Milly was gone.

The Doctor was scowling at the sky instead of making eye contact with anyone, but his arm was wrapped tightly around River’s lower back, his hand at her waist keeping her pressed against his side.  Neither he nor Milly protested a group hug, this time.

River tried to think of every bit of last minute advice and heartfelt wishes she could impart to her— her... what to call her?  Favourite student.  Protégée.  Closest friend since she’d still had her mother.  She felt she was understanding a huge, painful part of the Doctor’s life in a more visceral way than she had truly been able to before, watching this bright young woman they’d shared so much with walk away from the TARDIS.  

“I promise I’ll call,” Milly said.

“You’d better,” River replied, smiling through held-back tears.

“Mils, just… careful out there, okay?” the Doctor spoke for the first time, his voice rough.

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?”  Milly grinned at them, but her bright, watery eyes betrayed her.  

And then she hurried off around the passenger side of the car, two poofs of merrily bouncing dark hair the last thing visible over the roof as she ducked into the door.

Nardole gave them a sympathetic smile.  “I’ll bring dinner,” he said.  “You two take it easy.”

“Thank you, Nardole,” River called as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

And all too soon, they pulled away.  The Doctor lifted his hand to River’s shoulder, bringing her in closer to his side, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.  They watched Nardole’s boxy little car as it disappeared over the crest of the cliff, reappeared down in the valley, and finally drove out of view.  She shivered again and he rubbed his hand up and down her arm before steering her around to go back inside.

The Doctor leaned back against the front doors as soon as they’d closed behind them, and brought his hand to River’s chin, gently tilting her face up to his.  His eyes were red-rimmed when she finally looked at him, but he smiled at her before leaning closer and kissing her chastely, his lips gingerly pressed to hers, soft and sweet and lingering.  He kissed her again and again, hands shifting up to cup her face, not leaving even a breath between the whisper-soft sound of their lips parting and the welcome warmth as they were drawn together again.  River sighed and swayed into him, just sharing the same space, the same air; perfectly tender and slow and exactly what she needed.

“You okay?” he mumbled finally, resting his forehead against hers.

“I will be,” she sighed, hoping to convince herself— but in that moment, she felt warm and wonderful.  “You’re helping.  Are you okay?”

He ignored the question.  “It’s hard to say goodbye.  Don’t feel like you have to be alright.”

She breathed out a sharp, half-hearted laugh, pulling back enough to look into his eyes.  “I guess you know better than me.  Never had to do this before.  My parents were… my parents.  That was loss, grief.  Grief is impossible, but you expect it to be.  This… I don’t really know how this goes.  Seems a bit silly to be upset.  Or selfish.  I should just be happy for her.”

“You’re the least selfish person I’ve ever known.  And I _really_ should know.  She’s special, River.  You love her, and you _are_ happy for her, and you’ll miss her.  There’s nothing wrong with that.”

She laughed softly.  “Well listen to you, Mr. Emotional Intelligence.  Where did you come from?”

“What?  I’ve got skills.”

River shook her head slowly as she looked at him, a smile tugging at her lips.  He always did like to surprise her.  She rested her hand over one of his hearts.  

“How are you?” she asked again.

“Shite,” the Doctor replied bluntly, “but I’ve got one incredibly huge advantage.”

“And what’s that?”

He smiled, his eyes warm as he looked down at her.  “You’re here.”

River wrapped her arms around his neck as she leaned in to kiss him again, opening her mouth under his, suddenly gripped with a rising need that, at least for the moment, was entirely separate from lust.  Sometimes the force of how immensely she loved him nearly stole her breath, and she just had to throw herself completely into the miraculous gift that was loving him _and_ being able to have him.  For however many infinitely precious moments she would be granted.

They broke apart slowly, still nose to nose.

“Just the two of us,” the Doctor said softly.  “That’s not so bad, is it?”

“Not at all,” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

“What d'you think, cup of tea?”

“Bed first,” she said, lips briefly meeting his again.  “Tea later.”

They walked to the bedroom hand in hand.  River discarded her dressing gown before climbing under the covers beside him.  The Doctor smoothed one hand over her hair as they lay face to face, then wrapped a curl around his finger, playing with it absently.

“Are you tired?” he asked.

River shook her head slightly against her pillow, her eyes never leaving his.  “I don’t know.  Not sleepy.  But yes, maybe tired.”

He released the strand of hair he’d been fiddling with, watching it spring back into place, and lifted her hand in his own.

“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he said, kissing her knuckles.  “Just say.”

She shook her head again, smiling gratefully, adoringly back at him.  “You’ve already given me everything I want, darling.”

The Doctor looked intently into her eyes, his face solemn.  “Not yet.  But I’m really going to try.”

Before she could object he leaned in to kiss her again, lips just brushing hers, waiting to follow her lead.  She moved in closer until they were tightly entwined, lacing the fingers of their clasped hands together.

“I love you so much,” she whispered.

“Oh, River,” he said between kisses, his voice strained with emotion.  “River, how can I even tell you...” She stopped whatever he might have said next by covering his mouth with hers, and they put aside talking for a while.

When their minds reached out to each other, the Doctor’s was a jumble of intense emotion: hope and guilt and determination, terror and elation and longing; more than River could tease apart to make any sense of it.  But blooming over all the rest, the heat of it enveloping her, was the same desperate love she felt, and the deep contentment of being together.  

They undressed each other slowly and deliberately, reverently touching every newly revealed inch of warm skin.  When they were both fairly breathless from snogging, respiratory bypasses or no, the Doctor turned her over so her back was to his chest, pressing up against her.  She tucked her hair over the shoulder that was resting on the bed, hoping it wouldn’t escape to devour his face, and he chuckled appreciatively as he slipped his hand between her thighs.  

River sighed softly, squirming back into him.  He felt so wonderfully warm and comforting nestled behind her, his face pressed into her neck, soft kisses sending chills down her spine, heat curling through her body with every deft twist of his fingertips.  She pulled her knee up when she felt him straining his hips against her, shifting to give him a better angle.  

The Doctor placed a kiss just behind her ear, and a surge of fervent affection danced from his mind into hers, shimmering like an aurora behind her eyes, as he pushed ever so slowly into her.  Her breath came out in a long, low moan, overwhelmed with the sudden rush of feeling: wonderfully full and loved and safe and home and so, so good.

They moved at a lazy pace, just savouring being joined together.  But somehow the slow, gentle rocking was hitting just the right rhythm and depth, and it seemed only moments before River was gasping and trembling in the Doctor’s embrace.  She tilted her face as close as she could to his, and he kissed her cheek.  Then he began to mumble, low in her ear.  It was a little superfluous with their minds already communicating, mostly without words, but she so loved to hear his voice.

“River, River, River,” he sighed, his repetition of her name always marking his words as unfiltered stream of consciousness.  “I’m so lucky.  I am so stupidly lucky.  You are the most fucking _astonishingly_ wonderful—” his voice wavered and he groaned, thrusting into her hard, just once, and she moaned in bliss.  “I love you.  I love you so goddamn much,” he panted into her ear.  

Torn between happy tears and cries of pleasure, River could only whimper and reach back to press her hand to his cheek.

The Doctor’s hand worked steadily between her thighs as they returned to a gentle rhythm.  The once slow burn was leaping higher with each pass of his fingertips and gentle rock of his hips, but he held to his pace.  She hovered torturously, ecstatically on the edge for three slow, deliberate strokes, before the pleasure overtook her with a blinding intensity, warmth seeming to glow through her whole body as she shuddered from head to toe.  The Doctor held her close, kissing her everywhere he could reach.  When she finally stopped writhing in his arms and gasped for breath, he stilled his hips.

“Sort of thought we were just getting started, dear,” he teased gently, and she huffed at his smugness, sure of exactly the face he was making although she couldn’t see it.  

“Do you, um, mind?” he asked, sounding suddenly sincere.

“Mind? Mind— what, _if we keep going?”_ she panted incredulously.

“Well, you said you were tired, and it’s been an… _emotiony_ morning...”

“Oh my god, you ridiculous idiot,” she laughed.

“Well, that’s not—”

Before he could say another word River had rolled up onto her knees, shoved him onto his back and straddled him, reconnecting them in one smooth motion.

He made an inarticulate noise, hands flying to her hips and a blissful smile just beginning to spread on his lips before she grabbed his face and sucked his tongue into her mouth.

Every once in a while the old assassin reflexes still came in handy.  It was her own little sweet revenge each time she put them to a much better use.

___

The “later” part was lovely too.  The Doctor was wrapped around her as they sipped their tea, his back resting against the arm of the sofa and hers resting against his chest, their legs outstretched under a knit blanket.  He had to hold his cup out to the side a bit and turn his head to drink it, but he wouldn’t hear of her moving away.  River leaned her head back on his shoulder and let out a contented sigh, drunk on endorphins and his continued nearness.  

“Darling, you’re rather excellent at this husband thing, you know,” she said, eyes closed so she wouldn’t be tempted to antagonise him when he preened over the compliment.

“You’re just saying that because we’ve been shagging for two hours.  Wait til the next time you bring me to a faculty dinner.”  

He surprised her a bit by for going for self-deprecating— well, _partly_ self-deprecating.  She smirked and cracked open an eye to glance up at him, what she could see of him from the close angle at least.

“That’s not why.  Alright, it’s not the _only_ reason why.  But that reminds me.”  She lifted her head and took another sip of her tea, placing her free hand over his and lacing their fingers together.  “You know they’re always waiting til the last moment to do the contracts for next year’s sessional lecturers.  I was thinking I might take some time off.  Or just, see if I ever feel like going back.  I could use a change.”

“I’d certainly be happy to have you around more,” the Doctor said, nuzzling his cheek into her hair.  “If you think you could resist murdering me with nothing to distract you.”

“Been there, done that,” she said lightly, “I’ve better uses for you fully functional.  I was thinking of maybe writing a bit, though.”

“Archaeology researchy writing?” he asked with the usual feigned contempt.

“Maybe more like novel writing.”

“Melody Malone?”

“I don’t know.  Bad memories with her.”

“Even so, she was great.  I love your writing.”

She bit her lip and flushed a little under his overt praise.  “Ah, you just think that because of the cover illustration.  Had to have something sensational to make sure you’d pick it up.”

“That is not why!” the Doctor objected.  “It’s brilliant.  You’re brilliant.  And besides,” he leaned forward so his cheek was pressed against hers and looked pointedly downward, “I’ve got a pretty spectacular view of the real thing here, and I’d _still_ love to read it.”

“You’re sweet,” she said softly, feeling inexplicably shy and even more warm and tingly than she had a moment ago.

“Hence the name,” he replied, grinning against her cheek.

River laughed, but couldn’t resist goading him a bit.  “Surely you’ve noticed I favour ‘darling’ for this face of yours.”

“Oh, well I’m that too, of course.  I’m a darling sweetie.”

“Mmm, aren’t you just?”  She turned her head to catch his lips for a brief kiss, the most they could manage with the angle and whilst balancing teacups.

The Doctor rested his chin on her shoulder and squeezed her hand gently.  “It’ll be alright, you know?  She’s not gone.  She’s just elsewhere, for now.  We’ll see her again.”

“You think so?”

“Better— I know so.”

She started to turn her head again to catch his eye and question him, but he slipped his hand out of hers and pressed his finger against her lips.

“Don’t ask how.  Spoilers.  Just wanted you to know.”

She nodded after a moment, trusting him totally and feeling grateful for that little promise to hold onto.

“And in the meantime,” he went on, his tone light again, “you’ve got me and Nardole kicking about to keep you company.  Could probably do worse than us.”

River closed her eyes and took a long sip from her teacup, breathing in the warm, malty bouquet, and exhaled heavily, trying to push out all of her worries and sadness in a breath.  And when she breathed in again: a trace of the Doctor’s faintly spicy cologne, the soothing scent of his skin, the tea, and the residue of time that called to her as one of its creatures, long subdued but always somewhat present in the TARDIS.  

“Could do _much_ worse,” she said with a smile.


End file.
